


Of Poison and Lonliness

by vicalily



Series: KuroTsuki Festival Week! [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender Kuroo Tetsurou, Drinking, KuroTsuki Week, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 21:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15180026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicalily/pseuds/vicalily
Summary: Tsukishima has a routine in place to stop him being swallowed by the past. It's unhealthy and toxic, but if it works then what's the problem?





	Of Poison and Lonliness

One Bed | Occupation | **Oblivion**

Heavy bass throbbed in his chest like a heartbeat, greedy fingers pawed at the exposed skin of his waist and clear poison scorched down his throat again and again. Tsukishima was in heaven.

He rolled his hips slowly against the stranger behind him, smirking victoriously at the low groan.

Hot breath brushed against the shell of his ear and his eyes slid shut. “Can we get out of here?”

Tsukishima caught the stranger’s dark gaze, turning his body to press flush against hard muscle. He leant in and scraped his teeth across defined shoulders, before peeking up through his lashes with faux innocence. “I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

As usual he woke with a pounding headache and no gotdamn clue where he was.

Someone snored beside him and he wrinkled his nose. He hated people who snored, because they almost always woke him up unnecessarily early.

Eyes screwed shut against the pain, he fumbled for the bedside table, hoping he left his phone there. He swore quietly. No such luck, but at least he used what little sense he was left with last night to remove his glasses.

He slipped them on quietly and quickly spotted his shorts from last night. Sparing his bed mate a brief glance to check he was still fast asleep, he silently flipped back the duvet and swung his legs onto the floor.

As silently as possible he plucked his clothes off the floor and made his escape with practiced ease, closing the door softly behind him. His phone blinked on and Tsukishima squinted in the harsh light. 05:48? That was not fair in the slightest, but supposedly there was no rest for the wicked, so that was him screwed.

He wandered around for a while until he found a metro station and a brief glance at the map showed him how to get home. He wasn’t too far from home, surprisingly. Previously he’d ended up on the opposite side of he city with one of his one night stands, so the five minute journey was appreciated. He might even catch a couple hours sleep if he was lucky.

As soon as he got home he flopped down onto the sofa, fully clothed, the aching pit of loneliness swelling in his chest until he fell into a dreamless sleep. That was his routine, one he had created for himself to distract himself as best he could from the fact he was utterly alone: Work, drink, sex, sleep, repeat. Every night where possible, and if he couldn’t go out, then he saw nothing wrong with drinking alone.

Drink until you can’t remember it in the morning, that was his motto. He loved his burning poison, letting him fall into hazy oblivion, arms wide. It was impossible to feel when his throat was scorched raw and someone’s hands were tracing his skin.

Truthfully it was a lie. But Tsukishima would be damned if that stopped him. He would go and drink until it became the truth and then he would drink again to forget about his high school friends and how they fell out of touch. He would drink to forget those lonely university years and he would drink until he found fleeting love in the embrace of another. It was his life. It wasn’t perfect but it worked.

* * *

He woke with a start, his alarm trilling a joyful tune very out of sync with his murderous thoughts. Everything hurt. His eyes were dry, his throat felt parched, and he was probably going to be sick. Yay.

Somehow he blundered through his morning routine, popping advil like sweets and ensuring all the curtains were drawn shut, before heading off to work. It was miraculous he left on time.

He hopped on the train, squashed between two other commuters, and prayed for a swift death. If his head throbbed anymore it might just explode. He couldn’t wait to be drunk again.

Eight painful hours later that was exactly what he did. He stopped home to change into something more inappropriate: a short black dress with cut outs at the waist, and a killer pair of red heels he only wore when he was feeling down. He looked pretty irresistible if he did say so himself.

Choosing the club closest to his house, he managed to knock back his first drink by half past five. He relaxed into the barstool, the tensions of the day melting away which each shot of poison the bartender pushed his way.

Tsukishima wouldn’t consider them friends exactly, but they partook in gentle banter before he stumbled his way to the dance floor.

“Y’know it’s not legally required to start drinking before six every day.”

Tsukishima shot the bartender a flat look. “It’s also not a legal requirement for you to bug me everytime I do yet-“ he gestured grandly with his drink in hand “-here we are again.”

The bartender laughed loudly. “Ouch. Rough day at work?”

“And why exactly do you care, Kuroo-San?”

He placed a hand over his heart, which Tsukishima guessed was Kuroo trying to play innocent. “For your information I am always this kind.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“So harsh! But alarmingly accurate. You got me, Tsukki.”

Kuroo looked at him slyly and Tsukishima sighed in annoyance. “Tsukishima.”

“Well, Tsukki-“

“Tsukishima.”

Kuroo carried right on as if he wasn’t interrupted “-I see your glass is empty, may I tempt you with this refreshing glass of water? It comes highly recommend by livers everywhere!”

“Will this ‘water’ make me forget this conversation ever happened? Because that’s my goal for the night.”

“Regrettably not. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Was that what you said to your girlfriend last night?”

There was a beat of silence and the looked at each other, like naughty school children, and laughed. Kuroo clutched his stomach a wheezed out a bizarre cackle and Tsukishima snickered behind his palm. When was the last time he laughed like that? Tadashi’s open smile flashed briefly in his mind and his laughter died down immediately. Time for more poison.

“Another drink please,” He said quietly, pushing his glass across the bar.

Kuroo stopped laughing as well, a sad expression quickly clouding his features. “You sure?”

Tsukishima felt like he was being tested, or pitied. He couldn’t tell which was worse, either way Kuroo-san had absolutely no say in the matter. If Tsukishima wanted to drown out his problems with alcohol then he would do so. He set his jaw and nodded briskly.

“Okay then-“ Kuroo tried for his usual cheery smile, but it fell flat “-one more coming right up.”

Tsukishima kept drinking, trying to block out any thought of Tadashi or high school or how Kuroo kept throwing him concerned glances over his shoulder while serving other customers. He downed another shot of something sickly sweet, ready to be taken home for the night.

There were a few options that had been checking him out, eyes lingering on his exposed skin, exactly as Tsukishima had planned. He made eye contact with an attractive brunette and smirked suggestively, turning to throw one last drink back before moving in for the kill.

It burned and he smiled.

Hopping off the barstool he stumbled, the room tilting violently underneath him. His head felt suddenly stuffed with cotton wool and the lights of the club made his head ache. Someone was shouting at him, but he didn’t know what they were saying. He didn’t care. Sweet oblivion. He staggered and collapsed, smashing his forehead on the bar and blacking out, the cries of his name suddenly silenced.

* * *

As soon as he woke up he was sick. A nurse came by a minute later and efficiently handed him a new gown and gave him a cardboard container should he feel the need to do so again. He thanked her and she left as quickly as she came, also informing him a doctor would be in to see him shortly.

A slightly nervous glance at his phone revealed it was just before noon the day after he collapsed. That was good, he would take today as sick leave and then be back to work the day after. His stomach churned violently and he hugged the sick bowl to his chest as he wretched. Or maybe the day after. To be safe.

“Tsukki! You’re awake!”

His throat was scratchy and rough but he still croaked a response. “Kuroo-san? What are you doing here?”

Kuroo placed his finger over his lips in a ‘shush’ motion. “Less of the ‘san’, Tsukki. They only let me in because I said you were my boyfriend. And I was... y’know... worried about you. A little.” He scratched nervously at that ridiculous bed head (or that’s what he claimed it was) and avoided looking directly at him.

He was saved having to reply by the entrance of a doctor who proceeded to flash a light in his eyes, record his findings, then read him his blood test results while shaking his head disapprovingly. “It would be very ill advised to continue drinking at your current rate, Tsukishima-san. If you elect to continue it is a very real possibility you’ll need a liver transplant in the near future. Luckily you’re young and can make a good recovery if you start making healthier choices. If you would like, I have leaflets about the local AA group I could give to you?”

Tsukishima looked over at Kuroo, biting his thumbnail nervously while listening intently to the doctor’s opinion, and realised he might not have been as completely alone as he thought he was. There were people he cared about, and who cared about him in return, he just had to find them. Maybe Kuroo was one of those people, sneaking in to the hospital to visit him even though he looked exhausted. It wasn’t fair to keep drinking himself into a stupor. It was time to feel things, accept the changes and move on with his life.

Kuroo cleared his throat and his attention snapped back to the present.

“That would be good, thank you.” The Doctor quirked his lips in approval and left them alone.

Silence filled the room, neither one of them knowing what words needed to be said. Until Kuroo surprised him again.

“So I was thinking I should keep a closer eye on you now you’re a recovering alcoholic.”

Tsukishima winced because it was painful, but It was the truth.

“Do you want to come over some time and watch bad movies with me? I warn you my taste has previously been called ‘tragic at best’.” Kuroo was grinning, but there was a nervous set to his shoulders that belied his emotions.

Tsukishima smiled gently, and it felt lighter than it had in many years. “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
